


reddens mutua per iocum atque uinum

by viriditas



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 3k of BULLSHIT, M/M, liberal use of italics because i have no self control, look just give this a chance, pining Hell, soft boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 02:38:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10562004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viriditas/pseuds/viriditas
Summary: And just like that, everything crashes down on Tyler at once, like a tidal wave. It’s Tuesday in Dallas, Texas, and Tyler Seguin is in love with John Klingberg with no clue as to how that happened.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this entire thing was born out of pettiness over klinger hate and me just wanting the man to be loved, and who better than tyler for this?? mostly inspired by [this one picture](http://bloximages.chicago2.vip.townnews.com/rapidcityjournal.com/content/tncms/assets/v3/editorial/f/54/f5423d92-9702-58a5-9ed4-37097eed6966/565a9067cb140.image.jpg?resize=1286%2C1611), and their cute interaction in casino night. title is from Catullus 50!!!! my only regret here is not figuring out a way to include klinger's dog  
> (a lot of hand waving around the hockey stuff, sorry for that)  
> special thanks to sally for listening to my idea and holding my hand thru the entire thing, steph for getting on board with this so fast and helping me edit/format as well as giving me ideas on how to develop this tiny monster, and nini for being my personal cheerleader, i love you three so much ♥

Everything starts on a warm September morning.  
  
He wakes up slowly, his head rising from the spot where John's head was nested in the previous night before dropping into the pillow unceremoniously. It smells like that coconut shampoo the blonde left in his house some time ago and Tyler can’t help but smile. It's way too early for the Swede to be out and about, but he knows how adamant his dogs can be about getting out to the backyard in the early morning and just how willing John is to spend time with them.  
  
With a groan and after a couple of minutes of attempting to go back to sleep, Tyler gets up from the bed, managing to fish his shorts from the floor on his side of it, stumbling around the room in his attempts to walk to the bathroom.  
  
(Maybe that should've been a warning— that John had _his_ side on the bed, too.)  
  
He takes his time brushing his teeth and putting on a hoodie. (Is it even his?) With hands deep in his pockets, Tyler makes his way down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he makes a quick stop to start up the coffee machine before opening the windows that look out to his backyard.  
  
He spots Klinger, crouching down and petting Marshall while Cash runs around, as the morning Sun casts a soft light upon them, and Tyler feels like that's a sight he doesn't appreciate as much as he should. His bare feet make no noise as he treks through the grass to join them, but the blonde seems to spot him even before he makes himself known.  
  
The smile on his face is as warm as usual when he looks up from Marshall, hands still rubbing through the thick fur on the dog’s back, and Tyler stops in his tracks a couple of steps away but doesn't hesitate to smile back, even when his heart starts racing. Klinger's smile grows bigger than one could think possible as he motions for the brunette to come closer, and it contradicts his complaints about “not getting enough sleep because _someone_ decided it was a snoring night.”  
  
Tyler snorts and drops down to sit on the spot right next to Klinger, his hand coming up to the blonde’s knee and successfully making him sit too. “You could've just went to any other room,” he says, and is startled by John’s impossibly fond look as he says, “wouldn't want to deprive that ugly mug of yours from spooning.”  
  
And just like that, everything crashes down on Tyler at once, like a tidal wave. It’s Tuesday in Dallas, Texas, and Tyler Seguin is in love with John Klingberg with no clue as to how that happened.

 

* * *

 

i 

Maybe it _actually_ began in the 2016/17 season.  
  
It's a mess from start to finish. They don’t even make it anywhere near a playoff spot. The disappointment seems to cloud the dressing room as they pack up for the season, though words of encouragement and _next season, boys_ get thrown around liberally.  
  
_This_ was supposed to be _their_ season.  
  
Tyler wonders how, despite the constant struggles faced alone and as a team, Dallas has become his home, now. He’d never thought he'd be able to _belong,_ not after how everything went down with Boston and how he felt like he’d never feel able to say he's at home _anywhere_ but Brampton. It feels like he owes his teammates something, like he can’t let them all go into their break moping and discontent.  
  
He does what he does best: organizes a cookout that involves copious amounts of alcohol and grilled meat.  
  
It sounded like a good idea at first, and when he stood up to make the announcement from his stall, he was met with smiles and a couple of cheers, and Jamie’s proud look which made his heart squeeze. He realizes it's going to be terrible once everyone and their partners shuffles in, and a buzzed Jamie is hugging Katie from behind as they talk with Sharpy and Abby. _Something_ now grips viciously on Tyler’s chest.  
  
Jamie is so happy with her, that's the thing.  
  
It's not like Tyler can get between what they have because he realized too late he should've said something, _anything_ , instead of cowering under Jordie’s knowing gaze.  
  
He will need something stronger than the beer in his hand, Tyler muses, as he walks up to Adam and Teresa who seem to have taken over the drinks table. He cracks a joke about Tia trying to get them all drunk for her amusement since she can't drink herself, and basks in the glow of making them both laugh and give him a tall glass filled with something that tastes extremely fruity but will do the trick.

\---- 

Tyler stumbles into the kitchen sometime later on, with the excuse to grab a couple more beers. He doesn't bother with closing the sliding door all the way— he just needs a couple of minutes to pull himself together. He moves towards the counter and sits on top of it, trying to regain both his breath and composure, lost deep in his mind enough not to notice someone else entering the room.  
  
“It must be hard, uh?” He startles when he hears those words, uttered somewhere to the left of the counter he's resting on, trying to will the room into staying _still_.  
  
Tyler’s brain takes a couple of seconds to recognize Klinger’s voice and a couple more to find him with his eyes, blinking away the blind spots.  
  
“But I love having you guys here,” He frowns, and John shakes his head, moving closer to where he's sitting.  
  
“Seeing Jamie with Katie, I mean—” The blonde stops himself, noticing Tyler’s wide eyes and the sharp intake of breath.  
  
“We never— it isn't like that for us. _Wasn't_.”  
  
Klinger grimaces, putting his hands up. "I thought you two had—"  
  
"He's… not like me." Tyler struggles to get the words out, feels the whole room spinning, now unsure if it's from the mean drinks Adam and Teresa had mixed or if it's from the sheer terror that grips him.  
  
John’s eyes are kind as he moves forward and wraps an arm around Tyler, who goes pliant under his touch. “It's okay, you know? It happens,” He’s smiling now, and his eyes seem to shine under the dim lights in the kitchen.  
  
Tyler nods, and the pressure on his chest seems to give a little.  
  
They stay like that a couple of moments, before John wraps his fingers around his bicep and squeezes once before letting go, motioning to the fridge and saying “come on, I'll help you take more beer out.”

\---- 

It's not like John and Tyler didn’t talk before— they texted sometimes, and hung out during events, practices. Tyler thinks Klinger is hilarious, in his own awkward way, and he does enjoy it when they spend time together. But something in their dynamics shifts after this conversation.  
  
Klinger seems to weave his way into Tyler's life after it. They spend the summer apart, the Swede going back to his homeland and Tyler alternating between spending some time at his parents home and in Dallas with his friends.  
  
That doesn't stop the sudden influx of texts and frankly amusing amount of emojis that Klinger uses when he gets more comfortable with whoever is on the other end of receiving his never ending commentary of everything, that adds onto Tyler’s own quite easily.  
  
It surprises Tyler how easy it is for Klinger to fill in the gaps he never _knew_ were in his life right after the system he had carefully crafted with the Benn brothers tipped out of balance. It's not like they don't talk anymore— the group chat Jordie had made first as a joke to send in embarrassing pictures of Jamie on Tyler’s first season as a Star is still going, just with more space between message and message— it's just... it's not the same thing as hanging out together constantly during the season.  
  
When the pre-season rolls around, Tyler has made plans to hang out with John alone at least three times in the first weeks, along with a yearly plan of sharing meals and Klinger promising to teach him to cook at least three things from scratch. He feels settled. _This season,_ he thinks, _we are doing it_.

 

ii 

They don’t. The teams makes it to playoffs by the skin of their teeth only to be knocked out embarrassingly fast by St. Louis Blues. Of course.

 

iii 

It takes them two seasons (one of which they end far away from any playoff chance, _again_ ) more to reach the point where everything just _clicks_ for the first time in what feels like forever. It's like magic is binding them all together, pushing them forward, forward, _forward,_ and suddenly the Dallas Stars are on the biggest winning streak of the franchise and clinching a playoff spot without much struggle.

It’s surreal. It feels like they are touching the sky with their bare hands, like all the hard work they have been putting in constantly season after season is finally being rewarded. The A on Tyler's jersey has been sitting there for a season already, but it had never felt more _right_ than it does as this moment, on a locker room filled to the brim with sweaty hockey players patting each other on the back and yelling from one side of the room to the other.   
  
Tyler makes his rounds, taking his time talking with their new rookies and the more veteran players alike, stopping for a short moment to hug a smiling John, who stills his fast paced conversation with Esa enough to wrap an arm around him and mumble "go help the captain with his speech", pushing him in the direction of Jamie.

 

iv

The envelope reaches his mailbox days before their first Stanley Cup match of the season. It's peach colored with nice calligraphy on the front addressed to Tyler Seguin and a plus one, just like the card itself. _Who even mails these things anymore?_ He opens it once, quickly skims over it's content (it's been coming for _years_ ) and tries to breathe himself into a state of calmness. Tyler shoots a quick text to Jamie and lets the card drop unceremoniously on the coffee table, falling into the sofa afterwards and letting Marshall and Cash climb all over him until they settle down near his feet.  
  
[to: jamie 7:55pm] _popping the biggest bottle tonight! congrats bro!_  
  
Tyler sighs, throwing his phone somewhere to his right. It's not a surprise— Jamie had told him months ago, right when he bought the ring. It's not like he's not happy for them, either, because he thinks Katie is such a smart person who keeps Jamie in line and he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy hanging out with her— she’s _fun_ , she’s frankly beautiful and all around a wonderful person.  
  
He just wish he could push years of being in love away by sheer will. He doesn't even know why he feels like this now— Tyler has accepted that they are only friends years ago, too.  
  
His heart does no longer flutter, his breath doesn't get caught on his throat when Jamie smiles and yet— there's something that the older man left imprinted on him that Tyler can't seem to shake off.  
  
(The _what if_ , the feeling of having loved someone but never truly having them and not realizing it until it was too late, the time lost.)  
  
The ping from his phone shakes him out of his reverie, and it takes Tyler a couple of moments to notice where he left it, resting on top of the pillows and a small chuckle leaves his lips once he checks his notifications.  
  
[klinger 8:03pm] _taco tisdag i'm omw_  
  
He types two messages quickly and laughs once more at the response.  
  
[to: klinger, 8:05pm] i thought that was taco fredag?  
  
[to: klinger, 8:06] what if i had plans!!!!!  
  
[klinger: 8:07pm] _coming over anyways :P_  
  
Leave it to John to figure out he _really_ didn’t want to be alone right now.

\----  
“Is this really _svensk mat_ ?” Tyler says sometime later, eyeing the contents on his plates with eyebrows furrowed and butchering the pronunciation ( _google had said that was the right way to say it, damnit_ ) to the point where Klinger is trying not to laugh, failing to maintain the seriousness that he had displayed when presenting the food to Tyler.  
  
“I would only offer you the finest dishes, sir.” John says, his face solemn but his eyes betraying that, full of playfulness. Tyler takes the plate he is offered and kicks the other man on the shin, scurrying away to the living room, laughing as Klinger curses and limps after him.

 

v

Tyler Seguin, Bruins forward, leaves Boston in 2013 when he is twenty one and heads to Dallas, with his tail between his legs and shame clouding him. Everyone says it’s because during that year, he only scored one goal in the playoffs.  
  
It's 2019 and at twenty nine, Tyler Seguin, the undisputed alternate captain of the Dallas Stars scores his first Stanley Cup goal of the season on overtime, game seven of the finals.  
  
Some would call it poetic justice.  
  
Winning the Stanley Cup with the Bruins was special. The tattoo on his ribs is a testament to it. He still has a place for everyone who was in the team at that time on his heart, looks back fondly at their shared memories when talking with Marchy after games on the regular season.  
  
Winning it in Dallas for the Stars makes him feel on top of the world. it’s finally _their_ moment. Everyone seems to pile on top of him and Tyler can only scream from the top of his lungs, overjoyed, not caring for wherever his stick ends up.  
  
“I _told you_ we would prove them wrong!” Jamie says, sometime later, after Tyler can stand up. The taller man bumps against him, holding him in a tight hug. Tyler laughs and hugs back just as tight, fingers clenching on Jamie’s jersey for a couple of moments before yelling back, “damn right we did!” and pulling away, to knock their helmets together, moments before he finds himself embraced from behind by a very excited Klinger, who barely gives Tyler enough space to spin around and face him.  
  
“We did it!” The Swede yells, still holding him. Tyler laughs and points at the white A on Klinger’s chest before wrapping his arms around him at once, saying, “couldn’t have done it without my new alternate captain!” and feels the blonde’s laugh reverberating on his own body from how close they are.  
  
Tyler’s heartbeat is racing. This moment is all he could have asked for and what he thought he’d never be able to have again, his family is here—  _John_ is here.

 

* * *

 

So, yeah. Tyler doesn’t know when it started but he’s sure of something: he is in love with John Klingberg.  
  
At first it’s easy to not acknowledge it: he’s always been good about denying things until they blow up in his face, letting them die somewhere on the back of his mind until he can’t distinguish them from the jumble of his thoughts that aren’t screaming family, friends, hockey. Tyler keeps hanging out with Klinger, and realizes it is almost impossible to untangle himself from the Swedish in his life, realizes how much their routines rely on each other, just how easy it is to be with him regardless of his discovery.  
  
It's worse than not saying anything to Jamie, back when it happened.  
  
Being in love with Jamie had been like a forest fire: huge, engulfing, and scorching, rendering Tyler helpless but ultimately placated, leaving behind little remains and the stench of smoke that clung to his lungs and seemed to come back randomly, a fleeting cough but always _there_.  
  
That’s the problem: being in love with John is so much easier, and that it makes it hard to hide.  
  
It's like the fireplace you light every winter night, big and built just for him, the one thing you don't realize how warm it makes you feel until one night you run out of wood because you forgot to buy some and suddenly you and the entire house feels cold to the core.  
  
Then it gets harder to hang out with John.  
  
The words seem to be on the tip of his tongue at all times. He just can't seem to let them out in the open. It's like all these years of keeping his thoughts and feelings about men reserved to the _unimportant_ box of his brain, being constantly denied instead of being up to par with his love for women are catching up to him and suddenly every time Klinger smiles at him in the comfort of his house or hugs him ( _Jesus_ , he never realized just how physical they actually are), his entire body is screaming at him to say something, _anything_ about it.   
  
Not even hockey lets him catch a break. Klinger is always there— feeding him the puck, crashing into him during every celly, offering soft words of comfort against every loss (they have become so few that they seem to sting even _more_ ), stretching out a hand to help him get out whenever he's knocked down or, ocasionally, fighting someone _because_ of Tyler.  
  
He just grits his teeth and holds it all in.

 

* * *

 

 

Then they start losing. The momentum they had built the previous season, the season where they won the Stanley Cup, made it all seem like they would never get down from the top of the world, but Tyler can't help to feel like it's more on him than on the rest of the team.  
  
He understands Jamie, now.  
  
It is not after a home game, where they give away a three goal lead against the Washington Capitals and end up losing on the shootout, with Tyler missing what could've been the game winning goal, that it all pours off him in big waves and it's impossible to stop it.  
  
It goes down like this: John drives Tyler home, because they had carpooled to the rink, and turns off the car engine once they reach the driveway, Tyler with his belt already unbuckled. It's dark— the streetlamps are too far from where they are to actually cast a light upon them—, the only ilumination is the blue glow from the small screen on Klinger's car. The younger man pats Tyler's knee and says  "chin up— we'll get back from this just like we have before", before he unbuckles his own belt and leans forward to catch Tyler in a hug. He melts into the touch, his mind on overdrive. Tyler holds onto John's hoodie, his nose pressing against the cold skin on the Swede's neck, making Klinger laugh softly.  
  
They stay like that for a couple of moments and, when the blonde pulls away, the light crafting sharp angles on his face, and he looks so beautiful that Tyler just _has_  to whisper "I love you", his hands still holding tight to the piece of clothing. John's eyebrows reach his hairline, and he whispers back "really?", his face equal parts desbelief and joy, and Tyler feels the weight of the world being released from his shoulders as he repeats himself, this time with a smile and a firm voice, before leaning in and pressing his lips to Klinger's rosy ones for a brief moment.  
  
Tyler pulls back, and Klinger makes a sound of disgruntlement, placing his hands on Tyler's cheeks and bringing him closer, kissing the air out of his lungs for what feels like both an eternity and a second. At some point (how long have they been sitting on the car? one minute? one hour?), they break apart, lips parted in the widest smiles their faces can hold in, their chests heaving.   
  
"So...are you coming in?" Tyler asks, after Klinger releases his hold on the brunette's cheeks. He wiggles his eyebrows making John laugh again and God, Tyler loves him so much, he can't believe this is happening.  
  
"That would be nice," Klinger answers as he moves to open his door "but, Tyler?" he speaks again and Tyler freezes, his hand on the door handle, head turning fast towards John once again.   
  
"Yes?" He asks, the hopeful tone on his voice still there.  
  
"I love you, too." The Swede says.  
  
Tyler releases the breath he didn't realize he was holding and feels everything around him settle, for once.  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> I tried My Best  
> some sidenotes:  
> svensk mat = swedish food  
> taco fredag = quoting sally here "it means taco Friday ...it's all us swedish/white ppl just being basic as hell and buying premade tortillas and salsa and spice mixes and then we cook minced meat and we just straight up think we're making exciting food but it's all v basic but also...good...and v easy..and v popular", klinger is just using that an excuse to see his boy ;_;
> 
> hope you enjoyed this! here's my [tumblr](http://seguins.tumblr.com)!


End file.
